nomadic in april

Mopti taxi

Today I took a taxi from my hotel to the garre sation to catch a taxi brusse (like a tro-tro) to the next town. I walked from my hotel to the junction where taxis stop. I saw a few taxis pass and then decided just to take the next one. It was the typical banana yellow color of taxis here. I'm not sure the exact make and model, but it looked like an old rusted out 1970s era Datsun hatchback.

The passenger and I who were joining the others had to wait for the driver to open the door. The handle was rigged with a string. After letting us in, the driver climbed in and "hotwired" the ignition from two wires hanging below the steering wheel. (I know i've grown accustomed to transport here, because this didn't even phase me. Actually in recent weeks past, I would have passed this taxi all together for being too rusty.)

We started on our way slowly laboring through the narrow streets of old town Mopti. As we turned one corner, I heard a scraping noise from the back left tire where I was sitting. I paid little attention, assuming it was grinding brakes like that of so many other taxis. Just as I noticed everyone in the car turning to look in my direction, I felt the car drop and rock to the left. The wheel had come off! Unbelievable! For once I was glad that the traffic was slow. We all bailed out of the taxi in search of another, leaving the driver to the gawks and stares of all passing by. All I could do was laugh, thinking to myself, no one at home will believe this.